


Obsession I - Enterprise

by Acidqueen (syredronning)



Series: Nasty MU series [3]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Abuse, BDSM, F/M, Kinky, M/M, Mind Control, Mirror Universe, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-23
Updated: 2010-09-23
Packaged: 2017-10-12 03:26:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syredronning/pseuds/Acidqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk gets obsessed over McCoy, but Spock protects his possession - mostly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obsession I - Enterprise

**Author's Note:**

> This story is the third part of my nasty MU series, which consists of Tied and Revelations.
> 
> Special thanks to my beta Lyrastar!
> 
> Originally posted June 2003.

"He's dead, Captain," McCoy said and pulled the gray blanket over the corpse that lay on the sickbay bed. "But what happened is medically impossible. All of his red corpuscles are gone."

Kirk looked down on the body with a deep frown. Then he met McCoy's gaze. "Do you have the medical data from the year 2256? Of the Farragut?"

"Somewhere here," McCoy answered dryly. He went toward his office with Kirk on his heels. When he sat down at his desk and began to search for the right disk, the sleeve of his uniform pulled back slightly and revealed the shiny metal cuffs beneath. Kirk's gaze fixed on them instantly, following their path through the stacks of material. Three weeks after Sarek's departure McCoy was outwardly almost the same as before - toward anyone but Spock. Only the cuffs and the hidden lines of the necklace showed that something basic had changed, and that something intrigued Kirk.

"Can I get a drink, McCoy?" he asked.

"Help yourself," McCoy muttered absent-mindedly, his concentration still on the search.

Kirk grabbed the blue Andorian rum and two glasses, which he put on the desk. Some disks fell to the floor with his actions, but that went unnoticed by McCoy.

"Drink with me," Kirk said, and poured the drinks.

McCoy looked up. "Uh, Captain," he began, but under Kirk's smirking smile he wavered. "I can't..." When Kirk pressed the glass into his hand, he took it nevertheless.

"One single drink, McCoy. For me," Kirk ordered, and raised his own. "A toast - to old friends."

McCoy looked at the glass in his hand, and then lifted it slowly until it hung in mid-air. "I... can't, Kirk," he said after some seconds and put it down again. His gaze met Kirk's in a silent plea. "Sorry, Captain." McCoy focused on the stacks again, searching hastier now.

"That's quite an insult, doctor," Kirk said in a low voice and leaned over the desk. It was fun to play with this new McCoy; he was so easily cornered between his captain's and Spock's orders. And today Kirk would win. He took the glass and lifted it to McCoy's lips. "Drink!" And under his stern gaze, they slowly opened and allowed the blue fluid to flow inside. The doctor gulped, and wetness appeared in his eyes as the liquid burned down his throat. Finally the glass was empty, and Kirk took it away. "Thanks, doctor. I hate to drink alone."

McCoy took a deep breath and then hastily got up and turned towards the drawer in the rear of his office, where he searched through other piles of disordered stacks. His movements were becoming visibly more erratic.

A small smile played around Kirk's lips. This moment was as good as any, he decided, and silently walked around the desk. The doctor didn't hear him until he was standing right behind him, and so McCoy startled to his touch.

"You're quite a sight," Kirk whispered. His hands fixed on the small of McCoy's back, and with a victorious feeling he noticed the increased breathing and the shifting stance of his victim's body. As if pulled by invisible strings, the legs opened farther to the sides, and the back bent, allowing better entrance. The hands on the walls shifted to the sides too, stabilizing the body for the upcoming action. Kirk marveled on this sight, and he felt his penis stiffen when he pressed his groin to the slim buttocks in an unambiguous gesture. "Spock's a very lucky man," he murmured, tightening his hold around the other one's waistline. Under the fabric he felt the chastity belt, and the thought of that kicked his arousal further.

"Don't, Kirk," McCoy gasped, but the words lacked real resistance. "He'll know..."

"Only if you tell him," Kirk replied and let his right hand travel upwards until it found one of the enhanced nipples. The body in his grip shivered when he rubbed over it through the shirt.

"You don't understand," McCoy said, now more insisting. "He feels everything I feel."

Kirk pressed his chest hard down the doctor's back, forcing him to bend deeper. "You mean, he's getting as horny as you already are, McCoy?" he murmured into his victim's neck, and just reached around for the trouser fly when the door opened to the rear.

"Captain."

The single, sharp word cut through the room, and Kirk instinctively pulled back from McCoy, taking a deep breath. Then he turned around.

"Mr. Spock. I think I know what has killed the crewman. It's the same creature that killed two hundred people on the Farragut," Kirk said in his command voice. Then he let his gaze travel over the room with open distaste. "Unfortunately, the doctor is not able to find the report in his chaos. It's your job to see that the ship is run optimally, Mr. Spock. You better take care of this department, or I'll see to it." Straightening his shirt, Kirk stepped towards the door. For the fraction of a moment they stood chest to chest, dark eyes meeting brown ones, and then the Vulcan stepped back and allowed him to leave. Behind Kirk's back, the door closed and locked.

*

McCoy still stood on the wall, motionless. Behind him, the steps drew nearer - *he* drew nearer. A warm hand rubbed over his lower back where only moments before another had lain. "You've drunk alcohol."

"I -"

"Be quiet," the order came. "You've drunk alcohol. You've let yourself be touched by him and complied with his actions." A second hand touched his body, gliding down his chest. "It seems that I have disregarded some aspects of your training, my mate." An arm reached out and touched the metal cuff on his left wrist. The integrated hook appeared, and McCoy tensed in expectation. On his other wrist, the same took place. Then Spock pulled him to stand, still with his back to him. McCoy felt his arms folded behind his neck and the cuffs locked together and to the necklace. Heat crept up his body and unfolded in his brain, covering his worldview with the single wish of obeying the Vulcan. When Spock turned him around, he held his breath as he met a smoldering gaze.

"We will talk about discipline tonight, my mate. For now, I will take my pleasure in you, to remind you to whom you belong." The Vulcan's fingers glided along the stretched upper arms to the armpits and back, then up to the wrists that were chained behind the human's neck. There they closed around the arms in an unyielding grip and forced McCoy to his knees. He gasped when he landed on the floor. In front of him, long fingers opened black pants, releasing an erect cock into freedom.

"Satisfy me," the order came. He obliged, licking and sucking the hard member, caressing the glans with his tongue, pulling back and forth and rubbing over the double ridge.

Suddenly Spock drew back and pulled him up in his folded arms. Turning him around, he pressed him on the table so that the stacks of disks and papers fell down to the floor. He opened McCoy's pants and shoved them down to knee level, then pressed the buttocks to the sides as far as the belt allowed. McCoy moaned when he felt the penis entering his opening, knowing that Spock wouldn't give a single thought to his comfort now. His chest was pressed on the desk with every forcible push, and after only a few moments the Vulcan climaxed. McCoy winced as he felt the penis leaving him, his own arousal left unanswered. The trousers were pulled up and closed, and then Spock yanked him away from the table and down on his knees again. Fixing his eyes on Spock's clad groin, McCoy felt the cuff connection opening, but didn't dare to move his aching arms.

With a quick movement, Spock shoved him around and full-length down onto the clutter of disks and documents. His face hit a padd and from that slipped down onto some disks. Then he felt a boot on his back.

"You have until 2100 to clear these up and arrange them according to their contents. I will personally check the office then. If you fail, the booth will be your bed tonight. Understood?"

"Yes," McCoy whispered.

"I did not hear you, doctor." Spock's voice lowered a fraction in volume, while the weight on McCoy's back increased, leaving his lungs without air.

"Yes, sir, I understand, sir," McCoy pressed out.

The weight left, and steps trailed off. When the door had closed behind them, McCoy began to breathe again.

*

It was already 2200 when Kirk left the bridge and hastily went to his cabin where he switched on the viewer of the tantalus device. Maybe he was lucky and would get another porn show by Spock and McCoy - it was the right time for it, considering the order he had given that afternoon.

It was a pity that Spock had interrupted them, Kirk reflected as he changed into off-duty clothes. He hadn't been that near to McCoy since the night when he had given the drugged doctor over to his Vulcan officer. McCoy's blowjob hadn't been bad even then; but today, Kirk was sure, Sarek's lessons had enhanced the doctor's technique further. The memory of T'Opal's experienced ministrations was barely clouded by the knowledge that she had used the contact to gather information from his mind. Ignoring that possibility had been his own oversight - he, of all humans, should know what Vulcans are capable of.

Spock's room was still empty, and Kirk went over to his cupboard to fetch a glass of red wine, looking over the padds on his own table with a frown. He should work tonight, but the show in the viewer over the last three weeks had been too good to switch off. He tried to warm up Marlena for some of the Vulcan's games, but she wasn't the real submissive kind. That she was with him was to share some of his power, not to feel his power over her.

He sat down and sipped at his wine in thought. Somehow her position had strengthened over the last months. She had a vast knowledge of his activities and even of the Tantalus device, and he wasn't quite sure that she wouldn't use it against him. Maybe he should get rid of her...but then, she was a good fuck. Though maybe not as good as the one he could see on the screen right now.

McCoy had entered Spock's quarters, and as soon as the door had closed behind him, the doctor began to drop his clothes, folding them neatly onto a chair. No comparison to the man who had such chaos in his office. In Spock's quarters, Spock ruled with a tighter regime than Kirk would ever be able to instill on the Enterprise. The man on the screen was peeling off the last piece of fabric, and all he wore now was the necklace, the metal cuffs, and the golden belt that shimmered around his waistline and between his legs. Kirk felt his own penis jump at the sight and hastily turned his chair around to face the viewer. He sat down and put his feet on the table, opening his pants in expectation. It shouldn't take long for Spock to arrive.

*

McCoy began to prepare a spicy Vulcan stew with the synthesizer. The new tidiness in his office had satisfied the first officer - the meal would satisfy his mate likewise, hopefully. And this was his foremost duty. Spock had been right to punish him this afternoon...how could he behave like this, let Kirk come so close? He didn't understand himself. Spock was the center of his thoughts, of his all craving. He felt content, more than he had done in the past, and protected and secure, something that usually didn't happen on ISS ships.

The door opened behind him, and he moved to turn.

"Stay as you are," Spock said, and McCoy froze with the food in his hand. "Place it on the table," the Vulcan ordered. From behind, hands closed around his body, caressing his chest. A warm body pressed on his, layers of clothes wrinkling between them. Lips closed on his neck and then traveled down to his shoulders, making him shiver under this soft touch. A small moan escaped him as Spock pulled him closer, grinding a formidable erection against his ass.

"This smells like kahm-bar-kas," Spock whispered into his ear. Fingers rubbed over McCoy's nipples, shifting the implants rhythmically.

"It - is," McCoy gasped. His body melted under the arousing, unexpected impact.

"A pleasant surprise," Spock said in a low voice, but he didn't seem the least inclined to eat, McCoy noticed dazed. The Vulcan pulled him around and lay him down on his back on the table right between the meal and the plates. Then Spock lifted his legs into the air parallel to his chest. He reached around the thighs and massaged flesh and muscles with strong but painless grips. McCoy's breathing became erratic when one hand finally traveled into his cleft, rubbing over his orifice. With the other hand, Spock opened his trousers and released his penis. It was already enlarged and wet from pre-cum, and he rubbed it over McCoy's entry teasingly.

"Oh yes," McCoy gasped and tried to shift his body towards him.

"You are insatiable, my mate," Spock said, but disappointed McCoy by not following his hint. Instead he massaged the human's muscles further, up the buttocks and then up the sides of his chest, methodically clamping and releasing the flesh. It was incredibly relaxing and arousing at the same time, drowning McCoy with a warm wave from within.

"Please, Spock..." he moaned, and reached out for him, closing his hands around the Vulcan's upper arms.

Spock let his long fingers glide along McCoy's arms almost lazily, mirroring his caress. "This time is for you," he said softly. "A gift, my mate."

Unexpectedly he closed his hands around McCoy's upper arms and pulled the human up from the table, carrying him over to the sleeping area. There he lay him down on the cushions and blankets.

"Don't move," Spock said. "Close your eyes."

The world went dark as McCoy complied, trembling from tension. Hot lips wandered over his body, along his chest and arms. They sucked at his fingertips and returned to his neck and down to his hips, manipulating every nerve ending of his naked skin until he shivered in arousal. He didn't understand why his mate gave him such a gift tonight, but he welcomed it, drinking in the caresses.

Somewhere in his hazy world of pleasure he finally felt Spock rolling him on his side and shifting his upper leg to the front to gain free entry. It happened all so incredibly slow, the penis entering him from behind in fractions of inches, but he knew better than to move. All he did was broadcasting a speechless plea, begging for more, begging for release.

It was time, Spock thought and reached around to touch the human's face. The bond opened fully and his thoughts drove into the chaotic mind of his mate just like his penis drove into the stretched anus in front of him. The human gasped at the double impact but didn't move. What a pleasure this was, Spock thought as he pounded fast in a regular rhythm.

For three weeks now he had tried to find a way to loosen McCoy's conditioning without returning to their former situation, but the human was either completely subdued or completely resistant, as was his original nature - and somehow Spock found obedience much more pleasing. Seeing McCoy with Kirk today had finally sealed his decision; McCoy was his alone, and he would do anything to ensure that it would stay this way. What he was about to do now was only the first step in this direction.

He kept his ko-adun at the edge of orgasm until the human's control slipped and McCoy writhed, meeting his strokes with his own body, pushing back at him. He allowed him to do so, taking pleasure in the human's help to close the next link in his chained existence.

// Spock... // Another plea sobbed in the blazes of arousal that filled their joined minds.

// Soon, // Spock sent soothingly, and pushed a last time, letting his own orgasm rush in and submerging his sperm deep in the human's body. McCoy trembled and moaned in his arms, pleading for release. And he would give it to him.

// Come for me, // Spock thought in a whisper, his mind's control weaving the final knots to tie his mate's pleasure to his orders.

The human's body tensed against him, back to chest and ass to hips, and the climax swept through their minds like a breaching wave, staying with them until the last contraction ebbed in McCoy and he relaxed in the Vulcan's arms. Spock reached down to pull up a blanket without withdrawing from him. Bending forward he put a kiss on the round earlobe, tasting the saltiness on his lips.

"Thank you, Spock," McCoy murmured drowsily. "Master of my heart..."

"My one," Spock whispered, stroking some errant strands out of the way. McCoy would look good when his hair had grown a few months more. "I will eat now. You can sleep, if you want to." He pulled his softened penis out of the warmth and left the bed.

*

In his room, Kirk turned off the viewer of the Tantalus device when his door chimed.

"One second," he barked and hastily cleaned off the remains of his own climax with a towel. Then he stood up and closed his pants before he unlocked the door.

"Hello, Captain," Marlena purred when she was in his arms seconds later.

"Marlena," he murmured and kissed her. Her body molded to his, and a small gasp escaped her. Burying his hands into her hair, he bent her head and deepened the kiss, probing his tongue into her mouth. She writhed under his assault, and he caught her wrists and pulled them into her back, forcing her even closer. Finally she could escape and moved away from him.

"Did you watch them again?" she said caustically.

"None of your business, Marlena," Kirk said. "But you are my business." He captured her again, holding her against the wall and forcing his knee between her legs. "Just do what I want, dear," he murmured and nipped at her throat with his teeth.

"I'm not a brainless plaything, Jim," she growled and tried to wiggle out of his arms.

"That's okay," he said. "Just obey me, it's easy." He smiled at her, an intentionally dangerous smile.

Marlena looked at him and finally gave in. "Okay, Jim."

"Fine," he said, and released his grip. "Come with me."

They moved to the bed where he hastily removed her clothes, his mind rotating around all the things he could do with her... He would take her like Spock had taken McCoy tonight, he decided and rolled her on to her side, teasing her anal entry with his finger. She flinched at his touch.

"Jim, damn, what are you up to?" she gasped and would have rolled off the bed, had he not once again closed his arms around her.

"I'll take my pleasure in you, sweetie," he said, pressing his erection into the crack of her ass. "Stop resisting me, you're spoiling our game."

"That's not my game," she growled in open anger and kicked out with her legs.

"Oh, I'll teach you what our game is," Kirk said and held her closer, rolling her on her stomach to force her down with his weight. "I wonder how I'll make you behave. Ten with the whip would be a good start, I guess." She fought under him, gasping for air.

"Yes, ten with the whip should do," he repeated. He pulled one of her arms at her back and blindly reached out for his nightstand, grabbing the handcuffs he had borrowed from the ship's security.

Marlena caught his movement out of the corner of her eye. "Stop this," she moaned. "Fucking stop this. You're mad, Jim."

"Oh, if this is madness, it sure feels good." He laughed coldly and turned her around, trying to catch her hands. The first cuff closed around her left wrist. "Fight if you want," he stated and bent down over her, kissing her neck. "It turns me on even more. I'm gonna tie you up and fuck your brains out, Marlena."

But she caught him by surprise when she rammed her nails into his crotch, and he gasped in pain. She freed herself from under him and jumped toward the door, her clothes hanging in strips around her almost naked body and the handcuffs dangling from one wrist.

"Go and fuck him if you want, but not me anymore!"

The door opened and she disappeared into the corridor.

"Fuck yourself," Kirk snarled and threw a bottle of gin after her. It hit the door and rolled across the floor, its plastic nature not giving him the pleasure of hearing shattering glass. "I'll find another girl who'll please me. There are enough whores on this ship who'd love to submit to their captain."

He pulled himself up and dropped the rest of his clothes. His anger only pushed his arousal further - lord, how he wanted to fuck McCoy. And he would get him, soon. He switched on the Tantalus viewer, wallowing in the view of McCoy's bare ass as Spock prepared the doctor for another round and seeking orgasm in the fantasy of being in the Vulcan's place.

*

Spock was awake long before the alarm, the lightly snoring human in his arms and a warm feeling inside of him. Possession obliges, an old saying went, and he would fulfill his responsibilities by caring for and protecting his mate. Last night he had taken one more step by tying McCoy's orgasm to his control, and from today on he would also proceed according to the traditional training rules. Even the tight conditioning of a pleasure possession could weaken if not steadily refreshed, and so it would be his duty to keep it up and deepen it further.

He traced one round eyebrow with his fingertips, following its line from the top of the nose over the closed eye down the cheeks. His fingers came to rest on the light-red lips, and carefully probed into the mouth. It automatically opened to him and allowed his fingers free entrance. The human sucked on them lightly, mumbling something unintelligible. It was so arousing, Spock thought, almost too good to be true. Between his legs he felt his penis stiffen. He knew that his people had a reputation of being insatiable, but he had never before thought that it would be his nature too. But here, with the mate who could not deny him a thing, his body demanded more and more, wanting and needing release at least twice a day.

Deciding on his morning pleasure, he took his fingers away and pulled the human's body around, aligning them face to face and pressing his penis between McCoy's slim thighs. His other arm took hold of the human's hip, holding it steady as he began to move, rubbing his captured cock between the warm legs.

"Spock," the human said sleepily but joined his movements, clamping the thighs together to increase the friction.

"My one," Spock murmured. He kissed him gently, sealing their lips together while he increased his rhythm. It didn't take long before climax claimed him and he pressed forcefully into the tight cave for some seconds before he withdrew.

McCoy shivered in his embrace, gazing at him through half-closed lids.

"What do you want?" Spock asked softly. "You can tell me freely, my mate. I just will not promise that your wishes will be fulfilled."

"Can I have an…orgasm?"

Spock gave him a small smile. "Being in a good mood this morning, I will grant you this wish." And it would also be the perfect test for the new conditioning.

He moved lower on the bed until his lips centered on one nipple. He licked over it, evoking a moan from the human. "Yes, I will grant it, but I will do it my way."

Reaching around with his arms, he took the human in a tight grip before he began to assault the nipple in earnest. The body shivered and bucked and tried to wiggle away, but his lips kept their place. The implant danced under the skin, massaging the sensitive nerve endings until McCoy trembled from head to toe. Spock had made him climax like this already twice last week, an intriguing possibility for lustful torture because it took the human so endlessly long to come like this.

"Oh please, Spock," the human gasped ten minutes later. The gasping changed to sobbing when Spock licked further, keeping the stimulation at the level of climax. He would be able to go on forever without McCoy coming. But for now it was enough, as they had to be on duty soon.

He released the swollen nub and lifted his head. His mate's eyes were open fully now, the features tensed in despair. "Don't stop, please, don't stop," McCoy pleaded weakly.

Spock climbed up, meeting him face to face again and caressing the cheek. "Sweet tortures for you, my one," he whispered and kissed him. A muffled groan came as answer. He smiled as he let him loose, knowing it was time.

"Come for me," he said softly, and in his arms his ko-adun instantly arched against him, freezing in tension for a long moment before slacking again. He held the human close for a while, inhaling his pleasant smells.

"Thank you," McCoy finally whispered into his neck.

"My pleasure," Spock replied, and it was the truth.

*

Two evenings later McCoy was as usual preparing their meal when the door opened to reveal not only Spock but another crewmember that McCoy had seen only once before during her first checkup in sickbay. He had even forgotten her name.

"This is yeoman Eliree," Spock presented the lean Orion girl and answered his unspoken question. "She will take care of your cleansing routines from now on. You will obey her on this point as if it were me."

McCoy flushed deeply as she looked over him in barely hidden curiosity, visibly taking in the metal equipment on his otherwise nude body.

"Come closer, my mate," Spock ordered.

He obeyed with hesitation, forcing himself forward against the feeling of humiliation that wanted him to turn away.

"Cleansing...?" he asked in a low voice as he stood before them.

"I decided that a thorough daily cleansing in the morning would be preferable, but I lack the time to address it," Spock replied. "For this, I chose yeoman Eliree."

McCoy swallowed hard. "Spock, is that necessa -"

Spock waved, cutting off his words. "It is my decision," he said sharply. "And now I will introduce her to her duties. Go to the bathroom, we will follow shortly after."

Dropping his head, McCoy retreated as ordered.

Eliree looked after the doctor whom she had seen only at her first health check, and somehow she failed to connect the memory of the caustic CMO with this submissive man.

"Do you want to withdraw from the position of my yeoman?" Spock asked at her side. She turned her head to look at him.

"I...don't know," she replied honestly, and took the chair the Vulcan offered her.

He sat down opposite her, putting his folded hands on the edge of the table. "I chose you because you are familiar with slavery," he said.

"Of course," she replied, and added dryly, "I am an Orion woman - that's close enough to slavery to make me go on the run. But I've never encountered someone who is powerful in normal life and...subdued like this in privacy."

"In my society such unequal relationships are not unknown," Spock replied. "Although he is not legally my possession as a slave would be, he is under my control and protection. This does not influence his daily work, as his submissive attitude is solely directed toward me."

She nodded slowly. "I think I understand. I just don't know if I can manage this double-thinking. What if I get wounded and end up in sickbay?"

"Then your only thoughts will be about his expertise, I can assure you," Spock said simply.

Eliree played with the glass without drinking, then looked up at the First Officer. "Do I have a choice?" she asked, encouraged by his behavior. "If you want me, you'll get me."

Spock leaned back. "I could order you, but there is a high probability that you will not fulfill it adequately if it is not to your liking. So if you consider yourself unable to handle the situation - and him - you had better leave now."

She took a deep breath, juggling pros and cons for a moment and finding that the pro of being in the privileged position as the First Officer's yeoman outweighed any reluctance she might have about dealing with his lover.

"I accept," she said.

"I am pleased," Spock replied. "Let me introduce me to your duties, yeoman," he said and stood up to open the bathroom door. "After you..."

*

A week later Spock watched the two like every morning - the yeoman's efficient movements as she blindfolded McCoy, chained his arms up in the shower and opened the belt to clean him thoroughly, and the beautiful sight of the shiny, hairless body of his ko-adun. Not that the daily procedure was medically necessary, but the regular experience of helplessness facilitated the human's submissiveness further.

The cleaning was done quickly, and the yeoman closed the belt again and was about to free McCoy as Spock stepped near.

"Wait a moment, yeoman," he said and gave her a plug with an extended metal base. "Insert this." She gave him an irritated look, but then went down to do as ordered

McCoy tilted his head, an unvoiced question in his features. Centering his fingers on the human's temple under the soft fabric of the blindfold, Spock entered a meld.

// What - // McCoy thought and then tensed as the plug was slowly pushed inside, filling him.

// I want it, my one, // Spock sent over, and he felt the human's small resistance wavering and finally vanishing at these words.

// As you wish, // McCoy replied formally.

// Indeed, // Spock thought and withdrew from the direct mind contact. He kissed his love deeply, ravishing the cooler mouth with his tongue - a very human way to convey his feelings, but one he had learned to cherish. McCoy answered the kiss, and his breathing became labored at it.

Spock pulled back and walked around to the still kneeling yeoman who waited for his next order. "Reach under the belt. You will find a small button at the right side. Press it with your middle finger."

Eliree obeyed and, with a very small hiss, the mechanism locked, keeping the plug immovably in place. She looked up at the Vulcan.

"The locking mechanisms is now imprinted to my and your fingerprints," Spock said. "Only we will be able to remove this installment."

He could feel McCoy tense at his words again as the human realized all the implications, but it didn't change Spock's mind in the least. The Vulcan stepped back, letting the yeoman release McCoy. Minutes later she left, and when the door had closed behind her, McCoy fully met Spock's gaze.

"I...I don't know if I can go on duty like this," he said, his voice wavering.

"You will adjust," Spock said firmly.

"What if I have to go to the toilet?" McCoy asked.

"You will call me or if I am impeded, you will call her."

"And if you both are impeded?"

"Then you will wait," Spock replied sternly, determined to end this debate. But he could see that his ko-adun was still unconvinced, and so he sat down on the edge of the bed, signaling McCoy to kneel down in front of him. He put his hands on the pale shoulders and met the human's eyes.

"This is no punishment - in fact, you can see it as protection as nobody will be able to take advantage of you anymore. But the main reason for it is that it is my wish that you wear it. You are mine, and I do not want you to forget that for one single moment."

McCoy lowered his head. "Then I thank you, master of my heart, and ask forgiveness for my doubts."

"Granted," Spock said, and stroked the still uncombed brown hair. Another link in the chain, he thought in satisfaction.

*

"Wait for me," Kirk called out as he saw Spock and McCoy step into the turbolift, and ran after them, his bodyguards in his wake.

"Good morning and thanks," he said, and Spock released the hold button. The lift closed and went up and for a moment they stood in silence, their bodyguards in the background like statues. Kirk cautiously gazed at McCoy - the doctor looked somewhat uncomfortable, which made the captain wonder what he had missed this morning in the viewer. Spock, on the other hand, looked as relaxed as he had ever seen him. It seemed to be the right time to fix their working relationship that had taken distinct damage from the incident in sickbay a week ago.

"Lunch with me today, Mr. Spock?" he asked nonchalantly.

The couple exchanged a brief glance and, seeing rejection in Spock's face, Kirk decided to push a bit.

"We need to talk about the Terilai mission, and I'd prefer to combine that with my meal," he said. 'I could make it an order,' his eyes conveyed, and his first officer understood.

"Lunch would be acceptable," the Vulcan replied emotionlessly. The lift stopped at the second deck, and McCoy hastily left them for sickbay with a wordless nod. The door closed, and Kirk and Spock were lifted farther, their gazes locked in tense silence. It was getting uncomfortable, Kirk found and was happy when the ride ended at the bridge. But on stepping out he tumbled into Marlena, and the coffee she had held spilled partly on the floor and mostly on Spock, bathing his shiny blue uniform with brown liquid.

"Lieutenant," Kirk said sharply, finally finding the optimal reason to get rid of her, "this is the third time this week that you caused troubles. I'll see to it that you get a new position where you can't get into the way of my officers anymore. Leave the bridge!"

She looked at him, her eyes first dilating, then turning into slits. "Yes, Captain," she said finally and bent down to grab the cup and dry the pools of liquid with some napkins.

"Captain..." Spock began, and Kirk waved impatiently. "Go and change and find a new occupation for the lieutenant," he ordered.

"Usually such a mistake is punished with the booth," Spock said coolly.

Kirk sank into his chair, focusing at the main screen while thinking hard. He wanted to remove Marlena from the bridge, but he didn't really want to make her his enemy...

The Vulcan stepped at his side. "Captain?" he said.

Kirk turned his head toward him. "I leave that up to you, Mr. Spock. I'm sure you'll make the right decision."

For a long moment Spock looked at him in silence. Then the Vulcan went up to the lift where Marlena joined him. The door closed behind them, and Kirk leaned back in his chair. Spock was getting annoying, he thought and looked down at the back of Chekov. That the young man was still living was only due to the other Kirk's weakness, but maybe it was good for something. He would need a substitute at the science console, and Chekov was the best choice. The ensign seemed to feel his gaze and turned around to look at him.

"Captain?" Chekov asked.

Kirk smiled at him. "Go ahead, Ensign." The young man gave him a cautious smile and rotated back. Yes, there were worse choices than the ambitious youngster...

*

"Deck 4," Spock said, and gazed at the lieutenant who stood at his side as if frozen, only her sparkling eyes showing her agitation. So the rumors about a split were true, he thought. Fascinating - he had presumed that Marlena would ensure her share of power by keeping Kirk by all means, but obviously that was not the case. This definitely opened new possibilities...

The lift stopped. "Come with me," Spock ordered and went into his cabin without looking for her. She followed him hesitatingly into the room while the guards remained outside.

"Sit down," he said and locked the door behind her. Then he moved to his cabinet and took a new uniform out of it.

Marlena looked at him, eyes guarded. "Why didn't you put me in the booth?" she asked. "Kirk wouldn't mind, I can assure you."

"I know," Spock said and changed his shirt. "My question served only to clarify this point."

She stood quiet, watching him pulling the fabric down his chest and closing the sash over it.

"What do you want," she finally asked.

"Information."

She folded her hands over her chest and leaned back. "About?"

He sat down opposite to her, fixing his gaze at her face to read her every movement. "The device the other Kirk spoke about, which would make me 'invincible'."

She tilted her head to the side. "Oh, you finally remember," she said caustically.

"My private affairs have distracted me," he said flatly, "but would you have told me anything while still with Kirk?" He could well remember how she had denied any knowledge of such a device the day after the mirror incident.

"Probably not," she admitted. Her brown eyes searched his. "What do you need it for?"

"First, you should tell me how it works and where it is," Spock replied.

"Quid pro quo," she said coldly. "You tell me what you want to do, and I'll tell you if it's worth my treachery."

Spock raised a brow. "As long as I don't know how it works, I cannot tell you what I will do with it."

"Do you want to get rid of the captain?" she asked directly.

For a moment silence hung between them, then Spock shook his head slightly. "Not at the moment," he said, "but maybe -" He stopped when a call came in. It was McCoy.

"Spock, I..." the man on the screen hesitated. "Well, you know."

"In ten minutes," Spock replied, and briskly switched off the screen. He looked up to find Marlena gazing at him intensely…in…disgust?

She rose from her chair. "I don't think you need any information about the device right now," she stated coldly. "So you'd better put me in the booth or transfer me to another department. Your decision, *sir*."

His brows climbed in astonishment. Never before had anyone spoken to him so insolently, and for a second he seriously considered the booth, but then he changed his mind. "You're confined to your quarters. A new position will be found for you soon."

Ignoring the smirk on her face, he went for the door and unlocked it. "Dismissed, Lieutenant."

Marlena passed him swiftly and was just out of the door when she hesitated and turned her head to the side as if to say something. But then she shrugged and left with one of the guards.

Spock sighed inwardly. Human males were hard enough to understand, but the females of this species were nothing less than a mystery to him.

*

Kirk sat at the large table in the conference room and pretended to prepare the upcoming meeting about the Terilai mission. But in reality his gaze rested on McCoy who stood near the door and talked to Scott. He took in the lean features and the barely visible lines of the belt and the necklace. It gave him the hots like every time. All his jerk-off fantasies involved the doctor lately, and if he could do as he wanted, he'd bend him over the table and fuck his brains out or yank him to his cabin and chain him down and force him to suck him off. He summoned up the memories of McCoy's tongue on his cock and how he had pushed deep into the wet mouth, and between his legs his erection strained against the pants. He should've kept him then but the cynic McCoy of that time was vastly different from the man that was now obediently cooking meals for his Vulcan master every evening.

His eyes drifted to the other side of the table where Spock sat and looked at McCoy as well. It wasn't yet time to get rid of Spock, he had decided; the Vulcan was still too valuable to him. But moving Spock a bit out of the way would be a good thing, and the Terilai mission gave him the means for that.

His feelings shouldn't surprise him, Spock thought as he analyzed the hint of jealously at watching McCoy with Scott. On Vulcan, the sexes went separate ways in their daily life, and no other man would be allowed to come near his property - but here on board the Enterprise he would have to conform himself to McCoy's position and duties. All he could do was to ensure that McCoy stayed under his control as much as possible, and what he had planned for tonight would be another small brick in the protecting walls he built around his ko-adun.

The engineer's hand suddenly came to rest on McCoy's shoulder in a friendly gesture, and deep inside of Spock something broke free. He rose from his seat and leaned over the table, sending a blazing gaze at his spouse who caught his mood instantly.

"Let's sit down," McCoy said to Scott and turned away from the other man's hand. The doctor took the seat next to Spock and gave him an apologetic glance.

// Never forget to whom you belong, // Spock sharply sent over the bond, and McCoy nodded wordlessly, the mind contact too weak for him to reply.

*

McCoy's head swam in arousal, and his body swam in sweat that seemed to stream out of every pore. Tightly bound spread-eagled in the middle of the room, he was unable to escape the torturously wonderful things Spock did to him for hours. And so all that was left to him was to keep his breathing steady, using every ounce of air that the small mouth inlet of his closed head mask allowed him to take. Being controlled like this made him feel feathery light, vaguely unreal, and endlessly open. He was but an instrument in Spock's hand, being played with. Every other thing in the universe vanished when he was wrapped into this net of Spock's all-encompassing caring, no harm could ever come over him in this shelter of Spock's protection. He felt welcomed and wanted by the passion and pride that flooded him over their bond. Another tender touch on his chest, another caress on his blood-filled nubs, and he went insane with craving.

A body pressed at his backside and arms embraced him from behind, and he tilted his head back until it came to lie on a shoulder. He would love to hear Spock's voice, but no sound could pass through the thick mask, and so his world remained reduced to feeling only. Warm hands glided up and down his chest, and at his ass he could feel his lover's erection pressing into the cleft. It fed his hope that Spock would take him now and release him from his burning need, but the Vulcan had been standing like that already several times without giving in to the images he tried to convey over the bond.

In front the hands wandered up to his strained neck, and one closed around his throat, first softly, then strongly, robbing him of the little air he had left. He tried to relax, but his body involuntarily began to twitch as the deprivation reached a first critical limit. The hand let loose, and he raised his head from the other one's shoulder, sucking the badly needed air harshly through the inlet. Moments later the hand returned and strong fingers blocked his throat again. Fear rose in him, and he twisted, but there was no way to escape. Like before, his body trembled when the biological mechanisms set in, but the hand remained closed, and suddenly the trembling stropped and everything became so easy and clear as his fear subsided to the knowledge that whatever was to happen now was right because it was Spock's will. Dizziness expanded inside of him, claiming his thoughts, and he smiled as he felt himself drifting and his limbs slacking. If Spock wanted his death, he would happily oblige.

The pressure at his throat vanished, but he was unwilling to follow it back to life, his body remaining limp and his breathing remaining flat. Strong arms held him upright where his legs didn't support him any longer, and then air came in freely through the opened inlet. Reluctantly his lungs began working again, one shallow breath and then the next one. The mask opened, but he didn't want to see, he didn't want to leave this dark womb of pure being, where limited existence stepped back behind alluring ceaselessness. Eyes firmly closed, he yearned to stay in the twilight, but in the end it was the Vulcan who pulled him away from the edge and gave him back his life with kisses on brows and lips and throat where he had given him his death before. He opened his eyes to meet the Vulcan's ones and his heart was filled with endless gratitude being for being so wanted, so claimed.

The Vulcan's grip around his waistline loosened and he sank to the floor to embrace Spock's lower legs. "I love you," he whispered, pressing his head down on the Vulcan's naked feet, "Oh lord, how I love you. Don't ever leave me alone."

"I won't," the Vulcan replied, his voice wavering. And then the unbelievable happened - Spock went down on his knees too, facing him.

"Thank you, my wonderful one," the Vulcan said and took McCoy in a tight embrace, kissing him deeply. And they knelt like this for a long time, united in the wish to taste this perfect moment until its natural end.

*

But the future evolved differently, and so only three days later Spock saw himself faced with an away mission - two weeks on the newly associated planet Terilai. After the unusual but effective way the Halkan problem had been handled, the ISS council had decided to send Spock as special emissary to Terilai for two weeks. The planet was a natural source for the alloy Puronium that was necessary for the coating of spaceships, and it would be easier to use the population as slaves than to simply extinguish them. Spock rated it as small victory on his part; perhaps the other Kirk's suggestion still had possibilities.

He was already packing when McCoy arrived.

"It's true, you're leaving?" McCoy asked with a frown.

"I have to," Spock said earnestly, folding the last shirt and stuffing it into the medium-sized bag.

"What will I do without you?" McCoy whispered.

"Eliree will look after you; I have already arranged everything with her. You are already accustomed to her and all is working well, as far as I can see."

McCoy nodded in silence, the frown still lingering in his face.

"I do not expect that you will be endangered by anyone," Spock added. "Our enemies have been quiet lately." Maybe Spock should have been concerned for exactly this reason, but since his mission was inescapable, he would have to live with the actual state. Kaiidth.

"Of course, you could take my guards into sickbay," he said on second thought, but McCoy shook his head. "Nobody besides the captain takes guards into sickbay. It's a kind of off-limit place, and I want to keep it that way."

"I agree. Come here," Spock said and reached out for his mate. McCoy took the offered hand and let himself be pulled into an embrace and a kiss.

When Spock released him, he touched the human's face with his fingers and caressed down its side. "Only two weeks, my one. And long distance calls are possible."

"Not quite the same as feeling you," McCoy answered, massaging the Vulcan's chest. "You'll have to shield heavily, I suppose?"

"Yes," Spock replied. "Anything else would be too distracting."

"Then just come back in one piece, will you?" McCoy said in a low voice, extending two fingers.

Spock touched them, and the bond expanded, channeling sorrow and foreboding from McCoy to him. The Vulcan sent assurance and security back.

"Commander Spock, Commander Spock, report to transporter bay three immediately," Uhura's voice barked through the comm unit, breaking their silence.

"'I'll be waiting," McCoy said and took the Vulcan's hand, pressing a kiss to the upper side.

"I know," Spock said and left for his mission.

*

"Where are the reports from today, M'Benga?" McCoy barked through his open office door.

M'Benga hastily came around the corner and gave a padd to his superior. "Since Chapel's off with the away team, we're working overtime."

McCoy cross-read the list during its download and then gave the padd back to M'Benga. "Overtime, for a few knifings and one dead crewman?" he said caustically. "You should join a gravedigger squad on Earth if that's too much for you. Dismissed."

The dark man left the office as quickly as he had come, and McCoy looked after him in satisfaction. After two weeks of struggle, he was back to his old, harsh performance as CMO, even though the anal plug steadily reminded him of Spock and threatened to have him fall back to the submissive level. But that wouldn't do if he wanted to keep his department.

A part of him wondered why M'Benga hadn't yet used the situation to his advantage, and that was probably Spock's doing, too. He stood up and stretched his body. His gaze came to rest on the metal cuffs, and he felt a light sadness rising in him. Four days without Spock, and he missed him like hell. He was unused to lying in bed alone at night after all those weeks with the Vulcan, and so the sheets felt clammy and cold. And, he admitted to himself, he was horny as hell too, craving the wonderful orgasms Spock gave him.

A glance at the clock on the wall told him that his shift was finally over, and so he looked at his ordered table in a final check. Since the sickbay incident, he kept it in a state that would give no one an excuse for disciplinary actions, and so all padds were neatly piled and lined according to their contents now - another positive side effect of Spock's influence on him.

Time for dinner, he thought; maybe he was lucky and Scott was around too. He stepped out of his office, but he didn't get farther than the main door when a hypo hissed into his shoulder and darkness fell over him.

M'Benga lifted the limp body on the bed in victory. Oh yes, he had understood the captain that he wasn't allowed to kill McCoy. He also understood well enough that Spock would kill *him* if he ever found out that he had laid a hand on McCoy. But since Spock wouldn't learn of it, and Kirk would never ask as long as McCoy was alive and fit later, this was a safe game for M'Benga.

At first he pulled a thick sack over McCoy's head and closed it to damp all sounds. Then he rolled him on his stomach and tied his arms together before he lifted up the hips, pushing a cushion under them. He wanted to have an optimal entry for everything he had in mind with McCoy, his hated, despised, untouchable department head. Of course it would be so much nicer if McCoy experienced everything he did to him in a more awake state, but that would be too dangerous. Drugged like this, all that would happen to McCoy would be a damped dream, with the pain and the humiliation real enough to hurt him.

But when he opened the pants and rolled them down, his planning came to a sudden halt - over the anal entry, a metal plate was locked to the belt. And no matter how he tried, he couldn't find the opening mechanism. Maybe it was locked with voice or fingerprints - whatever it was, he wasn't able to open it. M'Benga's hate doubled in the realization that his plans were shattered to pieces by the Vulcan's foresight. He was cheated, over and over again.

But not like this, M'Benga cursed and grabbed the thermal cream and the protective gloves. At least he could get some of his revenge. Slowly he distributed the cream on the skin of the buttocks and the hips, which reddened instantly. Muffled moans came from the head of the bed as the burning invaded the dreams of his victim, and the hips shifted slightly away from his hands. "Do not move," he said sternly in an imitation of the Vulcan, and the body came to an instant halt. Reaching under the shirt he also rubbed the cream over the nipples, those wonderful sensitive nipples - how they would burn now he could well imagine. Some previous self-tests had elicited tears of pain by even a little contact with the cream. The amount he had distributed on his victim now was many times his test volume.

The body on the bed shivered but lay quiet otherwise, obeying the given order. The cream would take more than an hour to lose its intensity, and this would be a long, uncomfortable hour for his colleague, M'Benga thought caustically. He would engage the privacy lock now and -

"M'Benga - what was my order?" a voice asked sharply from behind.

M'Benga whirled around and paled. "Captain!"

Kirk pushed back from the doorframe and stepped forward. "What was my order?"

"I wasn't allowed to kill him. But this here is just..." His voice died under the captain's cold gaze.

"If I remember correctly, I warned you only two weeks ago that you shouldn't lay your hands on him." Kirk stated in a low voice. "I've seen the gazes you've given McCoy - and don't you think that Spock saw them too? How do you think you'll get away with what you're doing here?"

"He's sedated, all that he feels is like a dream to him," M'Benga said hastily. "I'll treat the skin afterwards, and Spock will never know it was real." The doctor held his breath as Kirk pondered over this answer. The captain's eyes drifted over McCoy's body, and suddenly M'Benga realized that he wasn't the only one who wanted to get McCoy in his hands - thought maybe for other reasons.

"Leave," Kirk ordered harshly. "Go to your other duties."

"Yes, sir," M'Benga nodded, and left hastily.

*

Kirk almost couldn't believe his luck. McCoy on a plate, in every sense of the word. The only impediment on the way to his fuck was that locked metal plate. But he knew who could open it.

He walked outside where M'Benga still stood next to the door. "Call yeoman Eliree to sickbay."

Not waiting for M'Benga's reply, Kirk moved back into the closure. He caressed the back of the tied man; never in his life had he yearned for someone so intensely. And now he'd get him, for a short time only, but he'd get him.

The door opened and Eliree came in. As she saw the body on the bed, a small gasp escaped her.

"You will open the lock," Kirk said without further introduction.

"Captain!" She looked at him in alarm. "I can't do that."

He grabbed her arm and yanked her to the bed. "That was an order, yeoman. Do you want to end up in the booth?"

Her gaze drifted to McCoy's buttocks and back to Kirk. "Captain," she pleaded weakly, "Mr. Spock will kill me if I do this."

A second later she had his dagger at her chin. "If you don't do it, I will kill you," Kirk said in a low, icy voice. In satisfaction he noticed the shivers that went through her body and the fear that shaded her face. "I've killed so many," he whispered. "Many more than Spock. Don't make me kill you."

The Orion wavered and finally gave in. "I - I will do what you want."

Kirk took the dagger away. "Open it."

She leaned forward and touched the small locking mechanism with her middle finger. With a faint hiss it unlocked, and she carefully removed the plug.

"Put it down there," Kirk ordered and pointed at a nearby table. "Now wait outside."

She left with downcast eyes, pale and defeated. And when the door had closed behind her, Kirk engaged the privacy lock. Time for fun.

*

McCoy awoke with a start. What a terrible dream that had been, he thought with a shudder. And it had been so real. Even his body seemed to ache from it, his skin burning, and his anal muscle stinging over the plug. He massaged his forehead, trying to clear his throbbing head. He didn't remember having gone home to their cabin at the end of his shift, but here he was, and the red colors gave him some peace of mind with the warmth they radiated.

Swaying, he went to the bathroom where his pale face met his eyes in the small mirror. The headache developed rapidly into a migraine, not at all impressed by the cold water he sprayed over his face. He should probably go to sickbay, but an illogical fear rose in him at the thought. His dream had taken place there, and he didn't want to smell the disinfectants before his next shift. Time for another round of sleep, he decided. He went back to the bed, rolling over to Spock's side to inhale the calming smell of his mate as he pressed his face into the cushion.

*

Kirk rubbed his cock once, twice, and came in a tremble, the ejaculate hitting the other side of the sonic shower stall. The memories of the last evening were the perfect aphrodisiac for him, but it had been so short, not nearly enough to feed his hunger for McCoy. He didn't really want to fuck a drugged man - he wanted him to be awake, fully aware when he took his pleasure in him. But he wouldn't reach that goal if he couldn't coax Spock into giving over the doctor willingly.

He stopped the sonic shower and grabbed a towel when a sudden inspiration hit him. Anger was the answer - Spock could react very badly when he saw the doctor do something that he shouldn't, like in sickbay two weeks ago. With anger he would get him. And he knew the perfect person for his plot.

Drying his back with the towel he made his call.

"Kirk to yeoman Eliree - report to my cabin, immediately."

Minutes later the Orion yeoman came in. She clamped her hands behind her back and raised her chin, trying to look calm and controlled when he knew that she was everything but.

He looked over her, not for the first time, but closer than he had done in the past. She wore deliberately loose clothing to hide her body, but she was well-built, lean and slim with full breasts. And being an Orion, she was probably experienced in some interesting techniques. Maybe he would be able to combine his idea with other pleasures.

Kirk was still naked, and the girl's gaze finally came to rest at his groin. He grinned. Cupping his sac he played with his balls, which made her lower her head.

"Interested, yeoman?" he asked.

"Maybe," she answered very cautiously.

"Why don't you come here and test our compatibility?" His fingers massaged his genitals further, his cock already bobbing up and pointing toward her.

"Yes, sir," she replied. Without further question she knelt down in front of him and took his penis deep into her mouth. The blowjob that followed was better than good, and it didn't take him long to come in her mouth, although he had climaxed in the shower only shortly before.

"Nice," he said, "very nice." He withdrew, rubbing the penis over her lips before he turned to his table.

"Have a drink," he said and gave her a glass with a blue liquid.

She stood up and took the drink. He took one likewise, and raised his glass.

"To a productive collaboration, yeoman," he toasted and drank it down in one gulp.

Eliree nodded and drank wordlessly. Seconds later he saw her swaying. She looked at him, fear in her eyes. "Sir, everything...is spinning."

"Must be the sex," he said lightly. "Why don't you lie down until your circulation is better?"

He led her to his bed, and she sank down on it. "Thank you, sir," she whispered, and fell asleep, Kirk reaching for a hypo the last thing she remembered afterwards.

*

The next morning Eliree as always blindfolded McCoy and chained his hands to the bar at the shower ceiling before she opened the belt. Used to the cleansing routine he stood relaxed, at least until he felt her fingers on parts where they didn't quite belong.

"What are you doing?" he asked in a low voice.

"I am cleaning you," she said, and rubbed a slick finger over his opening. "Don't you like it?"

He twitched as the finger entered him. "Please..." he gasped, but it sounded like a plea for more, not quite what he had intended. He knew that this wasn't allowed, but her touch was gentle and arousing. She stimulated his prostate, and soon he moaned, his body swinging slightly from his tied hands.

Another hand rubbed over his groin, which made him frown. This wasn't right; this area wasn't to be touched like this. He shifted his hips away. "Don't touch me there," he said.

She patted his buttocks. "It's nothing bad, McCoy. I just want to make you feel good. Don't you like it?" Her fingers probed deeper again, and he clamped his hands tightly around the chains. He was so horny from the last week without his lover. Sweet torture, Spock called the electrified plug, but it was torture in the end. His guilty conscience vanished as she added another finger, pushing with three now. He bent his back, inviting her movements. In front, her other hand still rested over the loose flesh, but he ignored it.

Her laughter rung in his ears as she suddenly pulled out.

"Enough for now," she said and closed the belt. He gasped, but didn't complain. What they were doing here wasn't right. He didn't want to disappoint Spock, didn't want to see the Vulcan's angry gaze when Spock had to punish him for overstepping a limit.

But in the evening she once again chained him in the shower and opened the belt, a procedure that normally was a morning routine only.

"Why are you -" he began, but when her fingers moved over his puckered opening, he fell silent, giving in to the sensation. It felt so good, so arousing, so...forbidden. He looked down at her.

"You aren't allowed to do this," he stated steadier than he felt.

She grinned up at him. "You like it nevertheless, don't you?" Her other hand touched her groin, and it felt...weird. He gazed down to where her fingers were entangled into soft, wrinkled flesh that looked disgusting, and he didn't want to feel her touch it like this. Rotating around he escaped her grip for a moment. "Stop this," he said. "That's not right. That's not what Spock ordered you to do."

She laughed. "How do you know what Spock told me? It won't please him when you talk to me like that. I might even stop what I was ordered to do." Her fingers pushed deeper, and his body automatically countered by inviting them.

"He told you...?" McCoy asked in confusion.

"Do you think I would do this without his knowledge?" she said, playing with her fingertips over the hard nub in his depths. McCoy flinched. "You like it, don't you?" she purred. Her hand began to move in and out, steadily fucking him. It didn't take long before he hung in his chains like a drowning man, the edges of the metal cuffs pressing deep into his skin.

"Oh yes...yes..." he moaned, pounding back at her when she increased the rhythm.

Suddenly she withdrew. "That's enough for now," she stated.

Wide-eyed McCoy looked at her. Just like that...? It had to be Spock's order, more training, more...sweet torture for him. He briefly leaned his head on his bent arms, but then he controlled himself again. When she had closed the belt around his hips, he thanked her and hastily donned his clothes and left for his shift. But no matter what happened that day, he couldn't help wondering what this evening would bring.

It brought more - more touching, more fucking, more despair as she closed the belt again with a promise of "later". A later which McCoy soon learned that she didn't mean, but a later that sounded too exciting to want her to stop. But she did never more than penetrate him with her fingers and to massage the flesh in his front. It was still a weird feeling, as if this part of his body wasn't connected to his mind, but the weirdness diminished with every meeting.

It was the morning of the fifth day that he looked down at his chest, watching her fingers play in the loosely hanging flesh once more.

"You like it, don't you?" she purred, the fingers of her other hand deep in his ass.

"I don't know," he said defensively. It wasn't right, it wasn't even right to see it - but without the blindfold and not being ordered to look away, his curiosity got the better of him.

"It looks strange," he said. "Ugly."

She pulled out her fingers, eliciting a gasp from him.

"It is like every man's genitals," she said. Reaching up she freed his wrists from the lock. "Touch it," she said as he lowered his arms in confusion.

"Touch...?"

She laughed again. "Yes, touch it." She took one of his hands and led it to the hanging folds of skin. "Touch it. Feel it."

He shrieked back. "It's not allowed," he whispered, remembering lessons by...Spock? It didn't matter; it was enough to know that he should not do it. Never.

"Come on," Eliree said and pushed his hands onto the flesh, forcing his fingers around it. "It's totally normal for a man."

McCoy closed his fingers around it, feeling...nothing.

"It is not right," he said and pulled his hand away. "I am a ko-adun."

"I see," she said, visibly disappointed. "Well, then I'll handle you like this." She closed the belt and inserted the plug, and only when it was locked, McCoy began to relax again.

*

She would get him sooner or later, Eliree thought as she tied his hands up again that evening. He was so cute in this position, so sexy, so ready for any stimulation she would give him. The belt was quickly opened and then she knelt down next to him, cupping his genitals.

"How does it feel now?" she asked, but all she heard was a small moan when she rubbed over the penis. It stood unmoved like every day, but she could feel that she had reached something inside of him when she touched it like this. She coated her other hand with lube and reached around, searching the small entry. He shifted toward her fingers, eagerly claiming them.

"What a slut you are," she said as he pounded against her intrusion, fucking himself on her fingers.

"Yes," he gasped.

"You want more?" she asked.

"Yes."

She pulled out. He jerked, swallowing hard.

"You'll touch yourself," she said and stood up to unlock his wrists. "Do it."

He looked down at the flesh. Then he sighed. "If you want me to do this..."

His finger just reached the sac as the door opened and Spock stepped into the bathroom.

For a second all three froze, then the Vulcan sputtered, "What are you doing here?"

Eliree was speechless with shock so Spock grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the bathroom.

"Sir, I did what you ordered me to do," she gasped as he released her in the middle of the room. Tears of pain fogged her view as she looked up at him.

"I ordered you to do this? When?" he asked. His voice was cold as ice.

"I...can't remember...after you had left...you called me...didn't you?" she said.

"I did not," Spock stated. He bent down over her. "Give me your thoughts," he said and reached for her face.

"No," she cried and pushed his lower arms aside, but he threw her on the floor and pinned her down with only one hand. His legs pressed on hers, making any movement impossible. Then his other hand contacted her temple, and she felt him piercing into her mind and through her existence. Sharp red lines cut through her thoughts, searching her memories until she lost track of herself.

When she opened her eyes again, she still lay on the floor. A small sob hung in her ears, and it took her a moment to realize it was her own. She looked up, and there she saw them - Spock at the bed, McCoy kneeling in front of him with arms clutched behind his back.

"Sir...?" she whispered weakly.

Spock didn't turn his head as he answered. "Leave now and do not return again, yeoman."

She didn't understand what was happening, but she understood that tone. Not to leave might cost her more than she had already paid, whatever for. She pulled herself into a swaying stand and left hastily.

*

"She truly thinks I ordered her to do this. And what is your explanation, my mate?" Spock asked coldly, his eyes mere slits.

"She said it was your order," McCoy whispered fearfully. "I believed her."

"You know that you are not allowed to touch what is under the belt, ever. Or do you deny it?"

McCoy shook his head. "No," he said in a low voice. "I knew it was not right."

He saw Spock's fists clench, and knew that a harsh punishment would follow. But the hardest for him was that he had lost Spock's trust. Any punishment would end after an hour or maybe two, but the damage he had done to their relationship would take much longer to heal.

"I am so sorry," McCoy whispered. It would not help him to talk about the feeling of being lost and lonely without Spock, about his torturous arousal and the permanent, burning need in him.

Spock looked at him. "Apologies are irrelevant. You have broken the rules." The Vulcan's eyes were sparkling in anger. "Your punishment will be in correspondence with the gravity of your failure."

The doorbell chimed, taking them both by surprise. Then it chimed again, a little signal sequence McCoy knew all too well.

For a second Spock frowned, but then he darkly looked at McCoy. "I believe the tool of your punishment is just arriving. Stay as you are."

The Vulcan went to the anteroom and opened the door.

"Good evening, Spock," Kirk's voice clung in the cabin, cheerful and relaxed. "I am quite happy that the mission was shorter than expected. You seem to have quite a hand to ensure the cooperation of newly acquired planets. I wanted to talk to you about that - but obviously, you are engaged at the moment." The slimy undertone in his voice couldn't be overheard, and McCoy blushed. He knew Kirk had some interest in him, but just the thought of Kirk touching him nauseated him for a while. For that Spock had never been willing to share him McCoy was grateful, to say the least. The more shocked he was when he heard Spock's answer. "Are you interested in participating, Captain?"

Obviously Kirk was as surprised as McCoy was shell-shocked, but then he replied, "Oh yes, I would be, of course."

// Spock, have mercy... not him... // McCoy pleaded, his heart beating like a drum in his ears, but he already knew that Spock would never withdraw such an offer.

// Spock - //

// This is your punishment. You will endure it. //

// Please, no - //

McCoy gasped as Spock's hands centered on his face and the Vulcan's forceful thoughts invaded his mind and activated his brain's pain center. In vain he tried to hold back the tears as pain seared his mind, and a small sob escaped his lips when Spock finally released his pressure. Never had Spock done something like that to him. Never had Spock been so angry. It would be the right punishment for his disobedience, indeed. It was all his fault...

Blinking through tears he could see Kirk's approaching figure. "Spock, you are really a dangerous man," the captain said.

"I assumed that you cherish that quality," the Vulcan replied. Then he ordered, "My one, turn around to face the captain."

McCoy slid around, his hands still tightly clutched behind his back. Fixing his gaze on Kirk's clad groin, he fought against a wave of nausea; but this was his punishment, and he would endure it.

White fingers glided over black pants, opening the trousers and pulling out a half-erect penis. The fingers stroked it for a moment, and it became hard and expanded, its head pointing toward McCoy's mouth.

"Now, that's a view, isn't it?" Kirk whispered. "Come on, lick."

McCoy leaned forward, extending his tongue to reach the lower side of the glans. He licked over it, barely touching the skin. His stomach tightened under the smell and the taste and the knowledge that this was Kirk's cock. Tears filled his eyes again as he fought the disgust that rose in him.

"Do your duty, McCoy," Spock said coldly. "You know better."

Up and down, along the sides and over the already leaking head McCoy let his tongue wander now, but he knew that was only the beginning.

"Take it in. Swallow it all," the captain ordered from above, his voice hushed.

When McCoy's lips closed over the glans, Kirk grabbed his head and pushed his full length into the wetness, mouth-fucking him. And suddenly there was that feeling of deja-vu rising in him so intensely that he choked. Kirk paused for a second, but then went ahead fervidly, holding him upright by his hair. McCoy swayed on his hurting knees, unable to stabilize himself with his arms on his back. It had been different that other night, McCoy thought dizzily while he tried to relax his jaw. He had participated freely...sucked Kirk...until...

The penis pressed in deeply, making him want to cough. He breathed harshly through his nose, fulfilling his duties while his thoughts whirled. He had brought him to orgasm that night too, but then Kirk had rendered him unconscious and M'Benga had drugged him and they had...given him to Spock. Oh lord...

He closed his eyes while the hand on his head forced it back and forth, faster and faster. His jaws ached and his legs began to tremble in the uncomfortable position, and he prayed it would be over soon. His wish was fulfilled when the cock twitched between his lips, releasing its fluid in pulsing shots. The taste was the final trigger for his memory that came in full-fledged now, and he choked again when he swallowed the liquid. Kirk slowly withdrew, and McCoy licked the spent organ clean as it was expected from him, the nausea and the humiliation suddenly unimportant in the light of his memories. Then he was released and sagged back on his heels, taking a deep breath.

Above his head, he heard Kirk commenting on his skill, a praise Spock answered quite coldly. They moved towards the anteroom and only minutes later Kirk left the cabin. When Spock returned, McCoy jumped up, ignoring all rules.

"Spock," he rasped. "I remember it all, it was him, his plot, his revenge!"

"What do you mean?" Spock said with a deep frown.

"Look into my mind, Spock," McCoy begged and took the Vulcan's hand, placing it on his face. Spock entered the meld with little care, brushing through his memories in an aching rush, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that Spock would see the truth.

When the Vulcan dissolved the meld again, their eyes met. And in Spock's, there was the most dangerous, deadly gaze McCoy had ever seen.

For a moment, speech escaped them both as all the implications of Kirk's plot sank into them.

"I will kill him," Spock finally said with heated intensity. "I will kill him with the most painful methods my people have ever known." His gaze caught the weapons on the wall. "I will skin him inch by inch, and then I will let him wrap in le-matya skin and hang out to dry in the Forge -"

McCoy touched his shoulder. "Spock, we aren't on Vulcan," he said cautiously. "We're here, on this ship - his ship. He'll work against us further."

Spock didn't listen; instead, his swearing changed to Vulcan, a growling hateful rush of unintelligible syllables.

"Spock, please," McCoy said in a plea.

Spock briefly closed his eyes, visibly fighting for control. When he opened them again, the bloodlust in their depths hadn't diminished much, but the first frenzy was gone. He reached out and touched McCoy's face again, this time unusually tender entering the meld.

// I apologize, my mate, // Spock sent over. // My punishment was unjustified. //

McCoy shook his head mentally. // It's okay, Spock. It's your right. //

// I will make amends, // the Vulcan's mind whispered, and McCoy felt lips meeting his. He leaned into the touch, answering the kiss.

"Bridge to Spock," the call came in and cut sharply through the room. Spock instantly withdrew from the loose embrace and sat down at his communication console.

"What is it?" he asked as Uhura appeared on his screen.

"A call from Vulcan for you, sir," she replied. "Private, but with high priority signature."

Spock raised a brow and gave McCoy a short glance. "Put it through, Lieutenant," he replied finally.

McCoy stepped away from the screen, getting only a glimpse of the image of an old Vulcan woman that followed some symbols. But he saw that Spock's stance visibly changed from commander to subordinate as she spoke to him crisply, and it made him wonder what power this unknown woman had over his adun. Spock only answered in a few short words, and then the connection closed again, leaving Spock in front of the screen with a blank gaze.

"Spock - everything all right?" McCoy asked cautiously.

The Vulcan looked up at him. "That was T'Pau, the head of my House. She demands that you leave immediately for Vulcan, where you shall learn to fulfill your role as my ko-adun."

McCoy frowned in confusion. "Didn't you teach me all I need to know?"

Spock shook his head slightly. "Obviously T'Pau is of the opinion that it is necessary for an official wife to be introduced to her duties under her supervision." He sighed. "Her word is law, my mate. You will have to leave soon. As you fall under Vulcan law by our bonding, an unlimited, instant leave from the ISS for family reasons has to be granted by Kirk."

"I don't want to leave you," McCoy whispered, offering a hand.

Spock stood up and took it, his other hand touching the human's face, deepening another meld.

// Especially not now when this would leave you alone with Kirk, // McCoy sent over.

// The prospect of letting you go is very unpleasant. I missed you, // Spock admitted as he stroked McCoy's chest, caressing the smooth skin. // But you will return, and then our time for revenge will come. //

Spock directed the human to the bed, leaning him down gently.

// Our time will come... //

*

On the other side of the corridor, Kirk watched them once again on the Tantalus viewer, knowing that this would be their last lovemaking. He had seen it in McCoy's eyes when he had withdrawn - the doctor had remembered, and Spock knew now, too. He had to get rid of the Vulcan and then McCoy would be all his. He surely wouldn't be able to resist him with the tight conditioning he had received from the Vulcans. McCoy would be all his, and he would take him just as he wanted to.

Kirk's tongue was dry from the air that he sucked through his lips in anticipation when he reached out for the one button that would make Spock vanish in the wink of an eye. He grinned as he wondered if he should wait until Spock had climaxed - one last shot - but then he decided differently. If Spock vanished now, he could walk over and start right there, claiming the doctor instantly.

His hand lingered over the button for another second, and there was a hint of regret that Spock had to die now, for they had had a very productive working relationship. But then he pressed the button deep and - nothing happened.

Kirk gasped in disbelief, and pressed it again, once, twice - nothing. The Tantalus device had been sabotaged.

And when the door opened, he knew who was to blame.

"Marlena!"

"Yes, Jimmy darling," she said flatly, and stepped into the room.

He rushed to her and grabbed her upper arms, yanking her to the wall.

"What did you do with it? How could you betray me like this?" he yelled at her.

"It has lost its heart, Jim," she said coldly. "It is dead, and will be forever. It was one of a kind, and is damaged beyond repair." She met his gaze fully. "You never had a heart, Kirk. But I met another you once, who had one."

"Where is the missing part?" he insisted, barely listening to her words in his fury. He shook her hard. "Where, Marlena? Tell me!"

"It is destroyed," she said.

He backhanded her. "I don't believe you. I'll get the truth out of you, by all means."

Marlena shrugged, ignoring the blood that trickled down her mouth's edge. "It is no more. Just as you will be dead soon."

"Me?" He grabbed her throat with both hands, throttling her harshly. "You'll be dead if you don't tell me how to repair it!" Shaking her like a rag doll, he pushed her against the wall again and again, accompanied soon by the dull sound of cracking bones. She gasped and began to struggle for air, her hands erratically pushing against his chest and arms, but in vain. Finally she slacked in his grip, and when he released her after some more long moments, she crumpled to the floor in a lifeless heap of limbs.

"You whore," he barked in diminishing anger, and gave her a final kick. "You damn fucking whore."

And then the anger burned up, leaving him with emptiness within. He sat down heavily on the bed, looking at her dead body and then at the Tantalus screen where the relaxed features of his intended victim told a story of release and satisfaction, a mocking mirror of the deadly silence in his own cabin.

Well, he could wait just as well for McCoy's return, Kirk decided. And then he called his guards to pick up the pieces of the captain's woman.


End file.
